Girl, you know it's true

Not real sure what this was about ...

Not real sure I even want to know ...



The better to see you with

I think since I've started wearing Mamaw Readers, my eyes have just gotten worse.

I've always had less than ideal eyesight. I've worn glasses since third grade...and contacts since eighth grade. And Mamaw Readers for about a year.

Without my contacts or glasses, I have 20/400 vision. Yeah, just a teeeeeny smidge past perfect.

I put off readers as long as I could. Even against the advice of my doctor. I would stretch my arms and hold things out, out, out so I could see them.

Then, my arms weren't long enough any more, so I caved and got Mamaw Readers. And, as much as I hate to admit it, they do help.

But now it seems like I can't see close or far or in between.

So I've got my Mamaw Readers, my regular glasses, my contacts.

Bleh.

I just put them on in all sorts of combinations until I can see.

Next step will probably be ... bifocals.

Seriously??

No.

Alrighty then.

Last night I was helping Cooper with his vocabulary words.

One of the words was concentrate. And variations of that word ... concentration and concentrated.

I was trying to explain concentrated liquids to him.

That's when he said, "Oh I know what that is. It's like old-timey orange juice that came in this little can and you had to mix it with water."

Old-timey?

What are you saying kid?

Hey. Ya. No.

There is allegedly a video of me on Facebook.

And allegedly I'm playing Just Dance.

With Jordan and two of her church youth group friends at a little holiday gathering yesterday. A little Hey Ya.

And I'm looking quite oldish.

And fattish.

And not coolish.

Awesome.

How many people will really see it anyway?

The guy only has 535 friends.

So there's that.

But I think he put it on the other kids walls too.

And they have a total of 2,178 friends.

But surely there are some duplicate friends in there.

So probably only 1,782 people will see it.

Whew, that's a relief.

But that's still a lotta' people seeing me shake my middle-aged groove thing.

Hey, maybe nobody will recognize me.

I did have a cap on. And the lighting wasn't too great. And we were moving around and all. And the video was taken with an iPhone.

No luck.

It's obviously me. No mistaking those saggy body parts. And if there is any doubt, Jordan calls me MOM more than once.

Thanks for that.

Do I get any points for being the ONLY adult who was willing to dance in front of ten teenagers in the first place?

Much less ON VIDEO?

Yeah, I get points. Stupid points.

STUPID. STU. PID.

Blah. I'm mortified.

So, I'll be changing churches effective today.

And changing my name.

And leaving town.

A reverse witness protection program of sorts.

Other than the video debaucle, my long Independence Day holiday weekend was pretty awesome.

Good times. Good friends.

And the video.

Good grief.

Brrrrr

The weather man just said, "It's warmer this morning. It's 17 degrees."

That's all kinds of ridiculous.

I'm freezing.

Freezing all the time.

I'm wearing hoodies around the house.

With the hoodie ON MY HEAD.

I walk around with a fleecie blanket wrapped around me.

Like it's my cape and I'm some sort of super hero.

I've been sitting by the fire.

And sleeping in socks.

SLEEPING. IN. SOCKS.

I'm an old mamaw.

Don't break a hip when you hop

I almost died last night.

Somehow, Connie convinced me to go to a dancey exercise class thing with her.

Yes. I said dancey and exercise.

She must have caught me in a weak moment.

She told me there were usually about five or six people. Mostly middle-age and "figure-challenged". OK, cool. I'm the poster child for that group.

Ummmm, last night there were almost 30 people.

Including an older gentleman who I was certain I could out-dance. Bring it Pops. Then he took off his sweatshirt and revealed his 28-pack abs and major buffy arms. Humph.

It was a really odd mix of people. Really. Odd.

I'm still not sure what we did.

An hour of hip-hop, Latin, jive dancing stuff with a lot of "SHAKE IT! SHAKE IT! SHAKE IT!" mixed in.

Huh? I'm supposed to do WHAT with my WHAT?

Call the paramedics.

Oh and there were plenty of body rolls. People, the only roll on my body is the one right around my middle, affectionately known as my Food Baby.

I was reminded that I am an out-of-shape, middle aged white woman with no rhythm. And I apparently can't count to three. Or tell the difference between my left and my right.

But it was fun. I think.

Word.

What age is considered "middle-age"? ... or "old"?

I think I may be slightly approaching something near one of those

There are signs.....

I talk about the price of gas.

I drive around with my mamaw friends and look at rising river waters.

I am having a bit of trouble seeing things close-up. I've noticed I stretch my arm out a bit to read things. I refuse to get you-know-whats.

When I am sitting down on the floor and then get up, I make the same noise my mom makes when SHE sits down on the floor and then gets up.

I have no problem going to bed in the 7 o'clock hour.

I have referred to myself as being "all stove up" when I start moving after being immobile for awhile.

When the kids have their music too loud, I say "Turn it down! It's making me nervous!"


I'm not on the downside of my decade. But I'm getting pretty close. Pass the Geritol.